


yellow

by staylucky



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Dirty Thoughts, Even’s POV, Jealous Even, Jealous Isak, M/M, Masturbation, Mental Illness, Romance, Smut, Sonja/Emma - Freeform, Vulnerable Even, Writer Even, bookshop au, pansexuality, past trauma, recovering addict, sex scene, soft, some twists and turns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 16:23:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14897951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staylucky/pseuds/staylucky
Summary: An intriguing Omega moves to Oslo and sets up shop. Even, dealing with his own demons, finds a distraction in Isak which develops into more, but Isak has his own secrets. Are people broken forever?





	yellow

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I wrote a while ago for The Comm, where I’m happily stationed these days. In the spirit of Pride Month, and as I’m going to Oslo Pride SOON, I thought I’d grace the tag on Ao3 ;). Comments & kudos if you read/enjoyed would be the cutest.
> 
> Love from your fave fandom exile <3

It’s a gorgeous day in Oslo, one of those spring mornings where the sun rises sleepily and blesses the city, stretched rays across hilltops and road sides. Even’s an early riser and it helps when the sun is out too, making him jump out of bed at the sound of the radio beeping him awake and dance n the shower as he soaps up his skin, smelling of mint and mango. ****  
** **

Simplicity is the name of the game these days. ****  
** **

Simplicity is what keeps him alive. ****  
** **

Even may still be young but the years of university and the first year after was enough to prove to himself that he didn’t need to burn out like the rest of his peers. It took a break down at the age of 23 for Even to give up pursuing the wild world of directing, too distracted by the pretty up-and-coming stars and the easy passing of tiny plastic bags full of magic white powder to focus on building his career. ****  
** **

A cocaine habit and a reputation for sticking his dick in every beta and omega that walked through his door was leading to dry deserts when it came to work, attracting crappy commercials and boring, dead-eyed actors. Illegal drugs mixed with legal ones and Even’s episode was a particularly harsh one, waking up to broken cameras and bits of a smashed up laptop across his studio, nose itching, pupils popping and heart in his throat. ****  
** **

Even admitted himself to hospital. ****  
** **

If it wasn’t for Sonja, he doesn’t know what he would have done. His best friend visited daily with strawberries and bad jokes and when he was released his studio bills had been tied up, compromises had been made with his landlord and he was driven to Sonja’s beautiful flat in Riddervolds Plass, a spacious safe heaven for her and her omega. ****  
** **

He spent a month feeling sorry for himself, brain swimming as it adjusted to new medication, hibernating in the spare room of their apartment while Emma, Sonja’s elfin like omega, made him  _ Røkt Laks _ for dinner and generally left him to his miserable musings. ****  
** **

Things got better, though, as things do.  ****  
** **

Even had always wanted to be a director, to work in film, but the thought of going back to it filled him with dread. His Google searches were a depressing list of ‘ _ what to do when your life falls apart _ ’ and ‘ _ how to change career when you don’t know what you want to do _ ’, leading him to humorous Buzzfeed articles about every millenial’s tragic quarter life crisis.  ****  
** **

Even’s a storyteller. He always thought he’d create and show stories through a camera lenses, but what if he can do it through words? He’s surrounded by people, by chatter and excitement, on a set but if it’s just him and a pen, a laptop, he’s away from the dangers of trying to impress strangers and fill the empty void in his soul with meaningless sex. ****  
** **

Most of the jobs as a journalist or writer wanted someone with far more experience than Even possessed but one advert caught his eye:  _ Aftenposten _ wanted a reviewer for the Frogner area.  ****  
** **

_ Vacancy for writer. Gain experience writing for Oslo’s largest newspaper. Review attractions in the Frogner area. Pay is 1300 Kroner per review. Send in a piece of work with your CV. _ ****  
** **

It was the first time in weeks Even had felt passion, writing enthusiastically and sloppily like he was on a major deadline. He reviewed Emma, joking in his piece about how his life had exploded like a devastating volcano and now the only restaurant he visited was the comfort of the pastel yellow bed sheets his fellow alpha friend had fitted for him, how her girlfriend served the fish with too much pepper and the apartment’s ambiance was one of failure and love. ****  
** **

Six days later he opened an email. ****  
** **

_ Mr Bech Naesheim, _ ****  
** **

_ Very funny. I like your tone. Submit an article for publication. If it’s good enough we’ll print and pay. Welcome on board. _ ****  
** **

Even smiled. ****  
** **

  
*

  
Even can’t complain living in the affluent West End. Money not only talks but it walks, the dominance of Oslo’s super rich obvious as plush houses reach up to the sky and and he's no different, his family as wealthy as they come. Sonja had dealt with his parents in the darkest days, Even too weak to deal with their questions and anxiety, but as he rose from the ashes and began to work again he had faced their tears and their fears. 

They pay his extortionate rent for the flat above Sonja and Emma’s because writing four reviews a week sure isn’t enough to keep the wolves from Even’s door. ****  
** **

Even’s lucky and he knows it. Norway and its parents are rich but there’s still a debt on his shoulders even though he knows his folks would never frame it as such. Even craves autonomy like the drugs he used to snort and it’s with that he starts to ponder if a second hobby would appease his restless, unruly Aquarius spirit. ****  
** **

It suits him, though. ****  
** **

The odd review here and there and days of lie-ins, fresh coffee and hours wasted at a laundrette as he doodles, waiting for his boxers to dry. He likes the easiness of life, not needing to be a applauded for his work but needing isolation and  _ some _ sort of income to not feel like a grown toddler. Frogner is familiar and beautiful, Even enjoying his afternoon walks and his growing relationships with the small business owners across the Gates. ****  
** **

_ Wednesday, 13th May.  _ ****  
** **

That’s the date everything changes. ****  
** **

Even spies the beginnings of a new store opening weeks ago, the sign in the window, hand written, and each day he walks past he sees new shelves, books strewn across them. This isn’t a book store like Frogner is used to, much more Grunkerlokka’s style, books in messy heaps and piles, aisles vague and curvy. Even’s an avid reader, the portable magic of a book able to spin him around in time and take him away from his depressing reality and in this digital era, there’s nothing quite like picking up a book and breathing in it’s dusty scent, a romantic relic of the past brought to life. ****  
** **

Even makes his way to the new store as the sign states it’s opening date.  _ 13th May.  _ ****  
** **

_ Yellow Curtains _ is the sort of book shop that catches your eye from the window and makes you stop still, an enticing wonderland of “what if?”s, forcing you to step inside. Even would bet money that there’s no order to the stacks of books and he’s eager to speak to the new owner, imagining an eccentric, elderly beta who’s taken their retirement cash and run. ****  
** **

Even is slow as he circles the store, taking in the different copies, the wide scope of science and fiction before he reaches the empty till. ****  
** **

“Hello?” he calls, eyes searching through the open door. His alpha senses tingle, something sweet smelling hiding in the back. ****  
** **

“One minute!” he hears, the voice soft on his eardrums. ****  
** **

Nothing could have prepared him for the face of the omega that shyly stumbled through the door. A boy, smaller, younger than Even, dusty blonde curls framing his face and a soft yellow cashmere jumper swamping him, inquisitive green eyes and a pretty pink mouth. Even was glad the omega couldn’t see his hands gripping under the table of where his till was perched, veins on his forearms popping as he felt blood surge through his body. ****  
** **

“Hi,” the young omega greeted, surprisingly in control of himself. Even would never say he’s some sort of model alpha but he is used to making omegas weak, being able to smell them on the tram or the bus as he hovers near them and tries not to crash into them as the tram swings around Oslo. It’s always a little embarrassing, seeing an omega swoon over him, but this time - with _ this _ omega - Even wouldn’t mind. ****  
** **

“Hi,” he nods, still eyeing the omega up, “is, uh… are you…,” he trails off, wanting to ask where the omega’s alpha is. Surely there’s an alpha business woman, or man, around here, moving shop with their pretty omega.  ****  
** **

“This is my shop,” the omega replies haughtily, nose in the air like he’s had to defend himself all his life.

“Oh, yeah,” Even rushes, embarrassed, “sorry, it’s just… unusual.” ****  
** **

The omega is clearly biting back annoyance but Even sees the familiar flash of intrigue that he often scents in omegas whenever he meets them and it soothes his alpha pride. ****  
** **

“It’s ok,” the boy mutters, “I’m sure I’ll get that a lot.” ****  
** **

“It’s your shop, huh? That’s so cool,” Even tries, hoping he can save this with a smile, “you must be doing well for yourself, setting up in Frogner.” ****  
** **

The omega smiles but it’s off, unreadable, which Even doesn’t like. He’s always been perceptive and not being able to get the full scent of this omega, not being able to read him immediately is off putting. ****  
** **

“What’s your deal, then? Business owner? Librarian?” Even continues, mentally slapping himself as he realises he sounds like he’s interviewing the poor boy. ****  
** **

“Here,” he gabbles at the omega who’s standing, slightly wary, behind the till as Even fusses around with his wallet before finding a crumpled business card, “My name’s Even. I work for  _ Afterposten _ . I could write you a review, get you some customers.” ****  
** **

“Oh,” the omega says, blushing the most enchanting shade of soft pink and taking the card gently, “that’s lovely, thank you.” ****  
** **

Even licks his lips. It’s been so long since he fucked and this sweet, gorgeous little omega is truly doing it for him, stood in his oversized yellow jumper with his big eyes, nervous and adorable. _An omega business owner, too, fuck_ _yes_ , Even thinks, _he must be smart and driven - sexy - but I bet he’s yielding and malleable behind closed doors_. ** **  
****

He steps back, knowing his scent will be changing rapidly and the last thing he wants to do is freak out this skittish omega. He starts to look for something to buy, sure there’s something here for him as he traces paperbacks and hardbacks, books about ethics and physics and British history, finally thumbing a book he’s willing to pay for. ****  
** **

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath as he clocks the price, a hefty 600 krone. ****  
** **

_ Worth it for the omega _ , his dick encourages. ****  
** **

His dick wins over his brain or perhaps in a less crude manner he could argue it’s his alpha that wins, wanting to boast and show off and please. He’s still stood where Even left him, blinking as he watches Even’s hands stroke  _ The Complete Works of William Shakespeare _ , a navy bound book that he slaps on the desk. ****  
** **

“I love Shakespeare,” Even grins, “I’ll take this.” ****  
** **

The omega nods, clumsily tapping at the till and flushing as he gets it wrong, trying to open it. ****  
** **

“Want me to do it?” Even asks, his alpha spinning circles, “I worked in a bar during Uni. I can do this.” ****  
** **

“Um, thanks,” the omega agrees, standing aside, Even gleeful as he knows he’s going to get close to the sweet smelling boy, “I don’t know how to run a shop, actually. This is my first shop. My first job.” ****  
** **

Even frowns in amusement. He wants to know this boy’s story but first he has to pay for his book and with ease he manages to pop the till open. ****  
** **

“I could help you out, if you like,” he offers with a shrug, “for free. I work in the evenings, so I can spare you an hour or so a day, teach you. If you want.” ****  
** **

The omega’s scent is difficult to define, both  _ want _ and  _ resist  _ in there, a gratefulness that doesn’t quite satisfy Even but Even catches a nod, the blonde curls bopping. He swallows the grin that he wants to let erupt across his face, knowing that waking up to coming here each morning to follow the scent of the blonde boy in yellow is going to curb those ugly reminiscent memories of pills and powder. ****  
** **

“That’s kind of you,” the omega offers, but finally Even can taste what his worry is.  _ Strange alpha _ . ****  
** **

“It’s just because I write about new businesses in the area, I have the free time,” Even interrupts the omega’s thoughts, “that’s all. I’ll just stay here, in the front.” ****  
** **

“It will be good to have an alpha around,” the omega agrees, “I want this to be an omega friendly place. I was going to make a nest, over there,” he points to a curved edge that hides away from the large windows, a perfect spot for pillows and cushions and omega nuzzling.  ****  
** **

Even’s heart pounds. ****  
** **

“Yeah, that’s a great idea,” Even almost whispers, taken by the image of the boy curled around a pillow. ****  
** **

“My name is Isak, by the way.” ****  
** **

_ Isak. Beautiful Isak. _ ****  
** **

“Maybe I can make you a tea? If you’re not busy,” Isak asks, looking shocked at his own offer.  ****  
** **

Even bites back the tickling laugh at Isak’s awkwardness and accepts. It’s not a surprise to Even that he ends up in _ Yellow Curtains  _ for two hours after that, sipping Isak’s terrible tea and fishing for information, the omega shy and closed. Isak’s from Bodø, hence the accent, and perhaps that also accounts for the slow and unsure way he moves. It’s typical omega meekness but as he’s in central Oslo, the West End at that, an omega far from home means he’s more timid than usual. It’s gorgeous, Even thinks, and by the time he waves his goodbyes to Isak he sprints back to the apartment, angrily pulling down his jeans so he can fist his already hardening dick as he thinks of that soft, shy, sweet omega.  ****  
** **

_ Isak _ , Even thinks, breath shaky as he grunts and pulls back to spit in his hand, fist his cock,  _ Isak, all alone in Oslo. He needs an alpha to protect him. Warm him up. Sink their knot into him. Little Isak. He’d be so grateful. He’d beg. He’d be so tight, so wet, so willing _ . ****  
** **

I t’s a messy yet satisfying climax, tinged with guilt that he’s sullied the innocence of Isak mere hours after meeting him but he falls asleep easily for the first time in months. ****  
** **

  
*  


Even’s caught up in his new fantasy that morning, whistling as he walks over to Fresko and orders them a juice each. He takes a wild guess at what Isak will like to drink, making a mix of cherries and strawberries, a sweet drink for a sweet boy. The roads are quiet as Frogner often is, Even cheery as he takes a turn onto Bygdøy allé and finds  _ Yellow  _ open, Isak fiddling at the front with a notice board. ****  
** **

“Morning!” Even sing-songs, plonking down the juice, “I got us breakfast.” ****  
** **

“That’s breakfast?” Isak asks, scrunching his nose up unfavourably. ****  
** **

“Ok, greedy guts,” Even jokes, “it’s healthy, Isak. It’s fruit.” ****  
** **

“Actually,” Isak starts, pinning a small leaflet advertising yoga classes in Briskett to the board, “by blending the fruit you’re not getting the most out of the nutrients.” ****  
** **

Even’s half affronted by Isak’s lack of gratitude and half turned on by it, wanting the omega to  _ submit  _ and blink coquettishly at him and purr with thanks, but enjoying being teased by him. ****  
** **

“I didn’t realise you’re a nutritionist  _ and _ a businessman,” Even teases back, leaning over the counter, “not just a pretty face, huh?” ****  
** **

Isak blushes bright pink and turns his attention back to the board, hiding from Even. Even can smell the reluctance in the air and shys away himself, not allowing his over eager nature to ruin this before it's even began.  ****  
** **

“So, um, want me to do some cash ups with you? It’s easy once you know,” he changes tack, slurping away at his spinach and banana shake. The mood shifts with ease, omegas like chameleons and Even isn’t far off it himself being a flighty Air sign, Isak picking up his juice with interest and sipping daintily.  ****  
** **

“It’s nice,” he concedes, the juice staining his lips deep pink.  ****  
** **

If Even had a tail, it’d be wagging. ****  
** **

Even takes that as consent to get closer, moving round so he’s behind the desk and able to show Isak how to work his old, cheap till. He’s desperate to ask questions but there’s a story in Isak’s eyes that Even knows is private. Omegas are often one of two ways: one, fast to spill their every secret and beg for love or two, frightened and quiet, taking weeks, if not months, if not years, to open up. ****  
** **

Even’s never been patient but he thinks this time he’s going to have to learn. Isak’s going to be worth it.

He writes a glowing review for the paper detailing the romantic feel of the shop, the new worlds one can find without even leaving the comfort of Norway, unable to resist putting his new fantasy on a pedestal. ****  
** **

_ The greatest thing about Yellow Curtains must be it’s small yet fierce owner, Mr. Isak Valtersen. Isak’s recently moved from the Arctic Circle down to the capital and his quiet ways fit the cosy atmosphere of his new home. Keen to make Yellow Curtains omega-friendly, there’s a small nesting space for omegas who just want some peace, quiet and comfort with tea on tap for the lucky few who bag the first spaces. All other genders are welcome but it is refreshing to see omega-focused spaces on the rise. Surely ‘Yellow’ will become a firm favourite amongst locals and Oslo residents whether the fashion-focused omega hipsters of Grünerløkka finding themselves here or a tired alpha in need of some classic poetry and gentle ambiance. A must visit! _ ****  
** **

Isak laughs when Even runs it past him before sending it off for publication. ****  
** **

“Small but fierce?” he quizzes, amused. ****  
** **

“I get a fierce vibe,” Even nods, watching as Isak holds his Ipad with careful hands. He hasn’t seen Isak be fierce, exactly, but the way he carries himself when a customer enters the shop, the way he’s held his tongue as an alpha questions his authority on a price shows Even he’s no pushover. Isak’s shy, he’s careful, he’s quiet but that doesn’t make him weak. ****  
** **

“I think that’s the first time I’ve been described as fierce,” Isak giggles, the laughter breaking his face up wonderfully, smile stretched to his ears and teeth bared. It’s a sound Even wants to hear again and again, on repeat, it’s a sight he wants to see every day, eyes fixed on the omega’s face as Isak rereads his small write up. ****  
** **

“You think the nest works? It doesn’t put alphas off coming?” Isak asks, serious. He’s taken to asking for advice, whether certain books should go in certain places ( _ more expensive books at eye sight, _ Even advised) should he charge nesting omegas for tea or is it quaint that the shop offers free hot drinks? (a _ sk for a donation to omega charities, build relationships with organisations, _ Even encouraged). Even loves it, feeling like he’s building a home with Isak. It’s an omega quality, to nest, but Even’s revived by it as before Isak he was bedridden, blood sucked out by the vampires that are mania and cocaine and now Isak’s filled him up again, healed him. ****  
** **

It’s a lot to place on a new friend, a half boss, a potential  _ something _ , but Isak doesn’t need to know that Even’s chosen their pup’s names already.

“The nest is a brilliant idea,” Even says, incredulous that Isak could think anything other. He doesn’t add that it gives him the ultimate hard-on, seeing sleepy omegas in plush pillows as they sip tea and read in silence, often stroking each other’s hair. He occasionally gets a real treat when a particularly tired omega falls asleep and begins to purr while being stroked, storing the soft yet sordid scene to his memory for when he’s in the privacy of his plush apartment.

Even likes to think his review has been good for business but Isak keeps his finances private and Even’s only a volunteer. He sees sparks of cautiousness about the boy and he understands it.  He’s a stranger, an alpha at that, and could easily swindle Isak out of cash and dignity if he chose to but Even’s never seen the attraction in forcing an unwilling omega, cheating an omega out of money and labour as alphas can and do. He loves the push and pull, likes how omegas play, licking lips as they protest weakly as Even plays with the buttons on their jeans ready to touch the slick heat he knows is waiting for him under the layers but scenting their unquestionable desire for him. ****  
** **

Isak might be right in front of him most days but he’s a ghost of a boy, here, there and everywhere, always just out of reach yet always in Even’s eyeline. ****  
** **

Sonja ruins his snowballing happiness, as Sonja does, because she’s logical and practical,  _ Capricorn _ . ****  
** **

“Even,” she says gently, pushing around her  _ brennsnut _ , “don’t replace one addiction with another.” ****  
** **

Even feels the blood rush to his feet. He’s always be labelled an addict and he knows he is one, knows his brain is wired differently to most but what if it isn’t a hindrance? No one ever considers that. He may feel more, he may smash computers and he’s ruined relationships and career opportunities after shovelling snow up his nose, he’s scared people with his high-pitched stories and his 120 miles per hour gabbling but what if it’s a blessing in disguise? He’s the one awake at 3.00am, the friend Sonja can ring in the middle of a blazing night time row with Emma, he’ll draw a thank you picture for his coffee barista, he’s teary eyed watching  _ Nasjonaldagen  _ parades, he  _ cares _ deeply. ****  
** **

“Don’t speak of Isak like he’s an illness,” he demands coolly, stabbing his vegetables in the broth, “just because I’m excited for something doesn’t mean it’s automatically dangerous.”

Emma chews a meatball silently. ****  
** **

“No,” Sonja says slowly, realising her mistake, “I’m sorry, Even. Of course not. I just want you to be safe.” ****  
** **

“I am safe,” Even bites back, holding onto his annoyance, “it’s fine. I’m working. I’m just helping Isak out. He’s from Bodø. He’s lonely.”

Even has no evidence for that whatsoever but Isak’s surely not much younger than him, he’s shy, and omegas aren’t good alone. It may be a stereotype and Even’s  _ woke _ , who isn’t, but it’s the way of the world - alphas and omegas  _ need _ each other. Sonja doesn’t push it, steering the conversation onto Emma’s candle making business but Even rather unkindly switches off. He’s always found his best friend’s omega on the wrong side of irritating, supposing it could be adorable and quirky to some but he’s not interested, mind wandering to the alleged loneliness of his own omega. ****  
** **

_ His _ omega. ****  
** **

“ - if you like?” Emma ends, animated once she starts talking, mouth open wide in a grin as she awaits Even’s reply. ****  
** **

“Uh,” Even tries to think fast, “yeah. Sure.” ****  
** **

“You want to buy 100 citrus candles off my omega,” Sonja asks dully, well aware of Even’s tendency to daydream and ignore the conversation. ****  
** **

“100?!” Even exclaims, “I mean… I’ll have some. Yeah.” ****  
** **

Emma is satisfied but Sonja isn’t, glaring evilly at Even from across the table.  _ Goddamn Capricorns _ , Even tuts inwardly,  _ with their snap judgements and distrust of new people and hatred of feelings _ .  ****  
** **

He helps wash up, the simplicity of the task keeping his thoughts at bay, makes his excuses and groggily climbs his way upstairs where he can strip and reflect on the day. He remembers, groaning, he has a review to edit and send off so makes an evening coffee. It’s not remotely healthy but it’s better than a bump of coke to keep his mind ticking over so he sips his Ethiopian treat and gets to work, blearily typing until he’s bored of rereading, pinging the email off to the editor. ****  
** **

He dreams of pale skin and long legs, a kitten of a boy running away from him under endless sheets of white, shrieking with laughter as Even tickles his waist with his fingers, an arctic omega with yellow jumpers and old books and a plethora of pillows. ****  
** **

** ****  
** **

So, perhaps it’s a little creepy. ****  
** **

Even can see how some might come to that judgement. ****  
** **

He’s taken to enjoying brunch over the road from  _ Yellow _ , Isak always too lost in his own world to notice he’s being stared at from across the way as he sets up shop. Even likes it. He likes that he can watch as Isak yawns and fusses with the opening sign, turning it round, he likes watching as Isak ferries back and forth, always returning out at 9.30am with a big mug of tea and lavender spray for the omega nest. ****  
** **

Even waits, enjoying the peace of watching him, before he knocks back his coffee and jogs across the quiet road.

“Hey,” he calls, opening the door, used to the jingle by now, “I like the candles.” ****  
** **

Isak’s half way through lighting the third one, carefully set on top of the desk where customers come to pay. ****  
** **

“Is it a fire hazard? It probably is,” Isak mutters as if ashamed of himself but Even can scent the need for comfort in the air. Omegas like homely _ koselig _ , delicious candles and fluffy pillows, alphas too, it linking to home, to love. Even’s watching him with a goofy smile when he sees the new leaflet hanging off Isak’s now busy notice board.  
****  
** **

_ Yellow Curtains Book Club _

_ Tuesdays at 7.00pm _

__ Friends & chat  
****  
** **

“A book club?” Even asks, the idea unsettling him for reasons he can’t place.  ****  
** **

“Ah - oh,” Isak stutters, “yeah, I thought it might be good to build networks, like you said? Meet people?” ****  
** **

Even quickly realises why he can’t stand the thought of intruders in the store, circling around his omega. He hides his possessive mood spraining like an ugly ink on a clean sheet with a cough, forcing himself to remain neutral and undetected. ****  
** **

“Yeah,” he grunts, unable to give much else for fear of revealing his potentially unwanted attentions. Isak deserves to enjoy books and stories with like minded people and Even quickly commits to the Tuesday evening in his mind, already stubborn in his quest to ensure he’ll not leave Isak alone whilst welcoming new faces into  _ Yellow _ alone.  ****  
** **

“I’ve already had a few texts,” Isak offers brightly, “I think there’ll be a few here tonight.” ****  
** **

“It’s Tuesday?” Even inquiries, surprised, as Isak nods happily. Isak looks so  _ beautiful  _ today; hair light from the summer sun, a pale blue scarf lightly wrapped around his long neck, white cotton t-shirt clinging to his small frame and painfully tight denim jeans threatening to expose Even as a filthy pervert.  ****  
** **

“Is it omega only? Can I come?” 

He hates sounding like a desperate puppy but that’s kind of what he is; nose sniffling around and a protective bark reserved for anyone who dares get close to what’s  _ his _ , whether Isak likes it or not. ****  
** **

“Of course,” Isak nods, “it’s going to be more of a social this evening anyway, you should  definitely come.” ****  
** **

_ I’m going to come alright _ , Even thinks, eyes falling to the pert ass being squeezed like a large juicy peach by light denim, Isak oblivious as he starts to cross off meetings in his diary and take note of what needs ordering in the next delivery. Isak teases him the entire day, utterly unaware of his effect, Even not missing how absent-minded alphas strolling around Frogner on their iphones stopping as they see the cute, stretched omega; tight ass in the air as he checks his bottom-shelf books, some of the now alert alphas wandering inside for a close-up. ****  
** **

“Can I help?” Even, unapologetically alpha, rounds on one particularly horny stranger, striding up to the leering offender. Isak is oblivious for an omega sometimes, Even swears, lost in his own little world as he assumes Even’s dealing with the harmless new customer. ****  
** **

The chancer shrugs sulkily, assuming Isak belongs to Even and leaving, eyes still trained on the sinful view Isak’s giving the whole street. ****  
** **

Even feels sorry for the majority of the lost alphas with their eyes popping out their heads. He’s managing to keep his boner under wraps and his scent, his horniness, closed off from Isak through sheer determination and fear of what Isak would say or do if he knew how badly Even wanted to chuck him down and bite him,  _ have _ him right there in the third aisle, mouth travelling down to taste omega juices and make his boy shake and mewl, utterly ruined by Even’s mouth.  ****  
** **

“You don’t have to stay all day,” Isak comments at one point, a slight sense of guilt in the air, “you must have other stuff to do.” ****  
** **

“It’s fine,” Even grins convincingly, his alpha growling internally,  _ I’m not leaving you alone looking like this _ . ****  
** **

Even enjoys it.  _ Yellow _ really does have an otherworldly ambience and his alpha headiness is fading as it gets busier with lunch time, hipster omegas coming in to nest and discuss the patriarchal alpha forces and how to subvert them, sipping lemon tea, their scents entangling with Isak’s and giving Even some welcome distraction. He can’t pretend he doesn’t enjoy their swooning over him, often asking if they can borrow a jacket for alpha comfort or their flirtatious comments and Even’s tempted to take it further but it feels like cheating whenever Isak appears with fresh drinks. ****  
** **

Even’s chatting up a cute blonde omega, her hair in bunches, large breasts contained in a fluffy pink jumper. She’s pretty and curvy and she smells like cinnamon. Even’s mind is depraved, he’ll admit it, because all he wants to do is open her up and see if she tastes as good as she smells, grab at her thick thighs and - ****  
** **

“Even?” Isak calls, fidgeting near the counter as he watches Even in the nest, far too comfortable as his hands creep dangerously close to the girl omega’s thigh. ****  
** **

“Excuse me,” he offers, leaving her to her friends and her reading, clambering out. Isak’s done a spectacular job with low hanging fairy lights and ruffled up rugs, large cushions, but Even, as a broad alpha, often headbutts the lights trips over the pillows with his large feet, eventually free from the adorable prison.

“Hey?” he asks Isak, following him through to the hallway of the store, backed up with stationery and Isak’s never ending lists lost across piles of paper and new orders. ****  
** **

“I don’t want to be an asshole,” Isak leads with, blurting it out, “but the nest is for omegas. Your scent will be all over it now.” ****  
** **

Even knows it’s the wrong attitude to take when Isak’s clearly irritated but he wants to reach out and stroke his cheek, his cute kittenish anger making Even want to kiss it off him, have Isak dissolve into his hands. He sits on his true feelings, hands shoved in pockets as he tries to flirt his way out of Isak’s bad books. ****  
** **

“I’m sorry,” he says with a guilty grin, “it might be comforting, though? Omegas like alpha scent.” ****  
** **

“ _ I _ don’t,” Isak insists, the haughty stance from a month or so before returning as he stands tall, “I at least don’t want it all over my nest. If this is just a pick up place to you - ” ****  
** **

“ - what?!” Even asks, stunned, frightened out of his charming, relaxed attitude immediately,  ****  
** **

“god, Isak, no. It isn’t. I swear to you.” ****  
** **

There’s a silence which neither of them want to interrupt, both musing internally as they eye each other. Even breaks it because he can’t bear Isak to think he’s using  _ Yellow _ as his own brothel. There’s nothing wrong with sex and Even will argue that to the very end; he knows it’s different for omegas, double standards invading their private and public lives and it isn’t fair but he gets why they’re cautious. ****  
** **

“I promise you this isn’t a pick up place to me,” he insists, “I love this store. I love - I love spending time with you.” ****  
** **

Isak plays with his scarf. ****  
** **

“I know,” he eventually replies, eyes to the floor, “I love it too.”

“The store?” Even asks, unable to not explore what is left unsaid between them. ****  
** **

Isak smiles. ****  
** **

“And having you here,” Isak twitches, leaning against the door frame, “you’ve been kind to me.” ****  
** **

Even wants to take the invitation, pull Isak in by his little hand and nuzzle up against the lips he’s been thinking about ever since he saw the omega move in. He thinks Isak would let him, would welcome him, and in that moment everything teeters on the thinnest of edges, everything he could ever want just waiting to be plucked and taken and devoured. ****  
** **

“Isak!”  ****  
** **

An excited omega shriek cuts through Even’s dream, bowling through the doorway but Even doesn’t miss the way Isak breathes out in disappointment at the interruption. ****  
** **

“Isak, sweetie, do you have any fresh tea?” ****  
** **

The American omega who frequents the shop waits expectantly, Isak polite and appeasing as he goes to fetch it for her as Even glares at her, unaware until her scent changes from peaceful to anxious. ****  
** **

“What’s up?” she asks, straightening up like an annoyed cat. ****  
** **

“Oh, sorry,” he sighs, mentally insulting himself for being too obvious. Even knows that an alpha’s anger or irritation can set off omegas, particularly sensitive ones, and he doesn’t want Isak to return to the hallway and it stink of alpha moodiness. His heart can’t bear the idea of Isak upset, running circles like a wet kitten, but Even also knows that sometimes the stench of alpha annoyance makes omegas even more submissive, more wanting to please, and that thought is something entirely different. ****  
** **

He leaves  _ Yellow _ at some point. He has to remind himself to do it because in reality he could stay all day; silently warning off alphas who pop in, keeping his eyes on Isak, feeling an alpha sense of satisfaction each time he can reach for a book Isak can’t quite get his fingertips on or checking over Isak’s invoices, clarifying his pricings. Even knows Isak is capable and would never insult him by assuming he’s unable to deal with his own finances or his own life but there’s nothing like the rush he gets when Isak defers to him. He’d bet his life Isak’s omega feels the same way about letting Even take control. ****  
** **

He walks out to Frognerparken, reminisces about the almost kiss, the almost… always almost. ****  
** **

He smiles out at the greenery. It’s going to happen.

Afternoon passes, he writes for a bit and sets back off to accompany Isak for the launch of his new book club. It’s good for Isak, he reminds himself, it’s good that he’s being sociable and reaching out to the community, to others. Even is possessive, it’s an alpha trait, but he’s not psychotic; Isak doesn’t belong to him but even when he does,  _ because he will _ , Even wants him to be his own person. ****  
** **

Isak’s set up nicely, using the nest and some spare chairs from his apartment above the shop. He’s got biscuits on trays and a teapot on the counter, piping hot and ready, with the crackly radio on as low level background noise. Even loves watching Isak do these simple, menial tasks as he walks into the shop and watches Isak check the temperature of the tea, his mind time travelling to the future when Isak will be doing this around their kitchen table, preparing breakfast for Even and their babies. ****  
** **

“ _ Hei _ ,” Even calls, “it’s looking lovely.” ****  
** **

Isak’s happy, Even can smell it, a little nervous but pleased with his idea to give it a go. ****  
** **

“If it doesn’t take off, it doesn’t matter,” he says airily, “but it’d be nice, if it does.” ****  
** **

Even isn’t sure if he trusts himself to get much closer. He wants to recreate this morning but if he takes Isak in his arms now, he won’t be able to stop himself and if anyone was to walk through the door while Isak was writhing and mewling against him Even thinks he might go feral. 

Isak’s eyes widen as he nods, Even whipping round to see a gaggle of omegas falling in. ****  
** **

“Book club,  _ ja _ ?” one asks hopefully, as Isak nods and gestures to the comfortable nest and chairs he’s fixed. Even stands back. He doesn’t want to intrude on Isak’s club. He knows this isn’t for him but the silent agreement that he’ll be there is understood by both of them. It’s going to happen soon, Even can feel it in fingertips. He makes more tea as the evening progresses, he retrieves more biscuits as omegas plow their way through packets, he watches Isak with gentle protectiveness. = ****  
** **

_ It’s perfect _ , Even thinks. Isak gets to feel accomplishment, he gets to talk literature and make friends and Even gets to watch him do it. ****  
** **

It is perfect, until it’s not. ****  
** **

The door jangles an hour into the meet and greet and the new scent sends Even’s nose into overdrive, desperate to place the unpleasantness he can smell. The omegas clearly disagree, because mixing in with the new scent is excitement and - unmistakably - lust. Even bites back an angry whimper, not understanding this new and unwelcome development until he sees him properly, pulling off his yellow beanie to reveal thick, dark curls. ****  
** **

“Hi,” the alpha smirks, “I’m Jonas. For book club?”

There’s omega murmuring and movement, Jonas looking over the group with interest, practically ignoring Even who glowers at him from behind the counter. Even’s interest is taken from the new alpha as Isak falls into view, still as pretty as he was in the earlier hours, offering Jonas his hand. ****  
** **

“I’m Isak, I own the shop,” he says confidently, hand waiting for Jonas who reaches for it with obvious gentleness, his other hand coming to enclose Isak into a soft grip. ****  
** **

“Lovely to meet you,” he purrs, Isak’s back arching slightly at the contact and the silkiness of Jonas’s voice. Jonas looks good, even Even can appreciate the buttoned-down cotton white shirt which accentuates his skin tone, tightly fit black jeans and wild dark hair everywhere, his bright eyes the focus of his face.  ****  
** **

_ Is he better looking than me? _ Even’s ego ponders,  _ no, no. He’s too fucking short for an alpha, anyway _ . ****  
** **

Jonas is still holding Isak’s paw in his hands and Even would be in denial if he tried to pretend that Isak didn’t look affected by the way this handsome, attractive alpha is looking at him. Jonas is different to him in every way, physically, the way Isak begins to heat up and blush making Even doubt everything he had been believing merely hours before. ****  
** **

“I haven’t been a member of a book club for years,” Jonas breaks the silence, finally letting Isak go, “it’ll be awesome to join one again.” ****  
** **

“Uh huh,” Isak agrees, uneasy as all the different scents and emotion stir together in the air, Jonas touching his shoulder lightly with a soft grin before going to introduce himself to the eager omegas. The intruder hasn’t even looked at Even, barely acknowledged him, like he’s just the nameless alpha security guard rather than an integral part of this community, part of Isak. Even slinks back into the comfort of the hallway, fishing around as he finds the stairs and makes his way to Isak’s bathroom.  ****  
** **

_ You’re getting ahead of yourself, Even. You’re always running too fast _ . ****  
** **

“I know,” he mumbles to the voices, splashing his face with cold water as he lurches over the sink, “I know, ok?” ****  
** **

He looks into the small mirror Isak had balanced on the windowsill. He looks pale, eyes frosty, a million miles away from the warmth of Jonas. ****  
** **

_ Why would Isak want you? He could have that. That easy smile, that natural charm. Yours is all a front _ . ****  
** **

“Shut up,” he whispers to his reflection, water stinging his burning face, “fuck you.”

He sinks back down, head hanging low as he tries to catch his breath and his feelings. None of the people present deserve to have their evening soured by his scent and rationally Even knows what will be will be, when it comes to his boy. This life may be predictable, scents and biology making it so, but Even’s not God, he’s no magician. Isak can make his own choices. It feels like a loss, a cutting loss, as he walks back downstairs and peeks his head round into the shop to see Jonas comfortable on an orange bean bag, legs stretched as he stares up at omegas sat higher than him, gazing at Isak who is giggling prettily, hand clutched in his blue scarf. Jonas looks confident for someone who is surely younger than Even; Even would bet his life that the alpha is at Oslo University, unblemished by the harsh realities of the real world. He looks like everything in his life has been easy, that he’s taken it in his stride and Even knows better than to judge people, knows the damage it can cause but he can just fucking  _ smell _ it in the air, the smooth, glossy easiness of Jonas’s life, his unbroken brain. ****  
** **

Someone as innocent and untainted as Isak deserves that sort of mate.  ****  
** **

Even darts out silently and as soon as the door quietly shuts behind him, the noise and music inside the bookstore ensuring his escape is easy, his mind begins to fizz. ****  
** **

It’s not a good thing when his mind begins to fizz. ****  
** **

The problem with an ego, an alpha ego, is that when it’s threatened, it has to get worse before it gets better. Even’s illness weighs like a mountain on his alpha pride. Alphas are strong, they take care of things, they don’t falter, they don’t cry. Even’s cried. He’s lost control. He hurt people with promises of love only to ghost days after, he’s ruined bank accounts and careers by taking things too far or not far enough. His mania makes him invincible until it crashes down around him and all that’s left is the burning, stinking rubble, his ruined castle in tatters all around him, making him the King of an empire of ruins. ****  
** **

It feels good to bleed but the scars last longer than the first hit of pain. ****  
** **

Even doesn’t like being alone because he’s never actually alone, the mania stays, whether dormant or not, and it never sleeps.  ****  
** **

_ I can never have someone like Isak. I’ll never have that kind of love. _ ****  
** **

He laughs, laughing until he’s sobbing, on his sofa, disgusted that he ever believed in his hopeless, spiralling, ridiculous fantasies of Isak belonging to him, of their family, their epic love story. Isak with his soft, sweet ways, who has only known the quietness of the Arctic, who deserves to be kept innocent and protected, not having to deal with the dark and mighty ocean that lives inside of Even. ****  
** **

Even’s sobs subside after a while, until he’s breathing with difficulty, calming down. ****  
** **

Maybe being sober isn’t worth it. ****  
** **

He still knows the old phone numbers off by heart. He could have a bag dropped off in an hour. He could sprinkle the tiny white rocks out on a Bob Dylan CD and crush them with his abused credit card, gathering small lines and rolling a 200 krone, sending the dirty powder straight to his brain, catching fire. ****  
** **

_ Cocaine to keep me sane. _ ****  
** **

There’s no feeling as good as when a high kicks in, there’s nothing that matches how it feels to drop a pill and watch the sunset, beautiful reds and yellows bleeding throughout the sky and feeling a song in your goddamn  _ chest, _ not just hearing it with your ears. There’s never been anything that feels as good -  _ nothing _ \- except for the way Isak looked at him before their almost kiss. ****  
** **

“No,” Even mumbles to himself, “stop it.” ****  
** **

He forces himself up, the thought of picking up on his mind, unable to shake it yet the face of his Mama, Sonja, fade into existence, their sad eyes and their endless efforts to see him healthy a strong opposition to Even’s reckless desire.  ****  
** **

_ “You really like ruining your own life, don’t you, son?” _ a memory of his Pappa, puffing on a pipe, plays on the imaginary reel in Even’s head, “ _ you have everything Even. You’re smart, wealthy, good looking, alpha, and for what? _ ” ****  
** **

Even doesn’t realise he’s still crying until the tears drip on his chest, collarbone wet with them. He hates the reality of tears, hates how they tickle his cheek and make his stomach shudder. He paces his kitchen slowly, the temptations of old still fresh now he’s imagined them, longing for something fake and temporary to heal him. The only true cure is love, after all, because everything in life is temporary except for love. Love is what people remember; love creates lives, families, histories and that’s why it hurts to lose it, not that Even ever had the kind of omega love he’s always craved. ****  
** **

He thinks of Isak, potentially curled up against Jonas’s chest and his stomach twists with jealousy. ****  
** **

Night has fallen since he left hours ago and autumn rain spits down faintly. It’s a relief, to feel the water on his skin as he exits his apartment’s building, rain slightly cooling but he knows his jacket will dampen unpleasantly. Bygdøy allé is a stone’s throw away and he’s there in no time but of course, Isak’s shut up shop, the clock almost at 12. He could back out, doubt heavy on his stomach, but he sees there’s faint light in Isak’s room and without allowing himself to talk himself out of it he raps his knuckles against the glass. ****  
** **

There’s no response, no stir. ****  
** **

_ Isak, naked, Jonas above him, leaning down to press his nose into Isak’s neck - _ ****  
** **

Even pounds his palm against it this time, ready to start shouting when the window props open, creaking. ****  
** **

“What?” a pissed off Isak asks, draped in a large, fluffy blanket, hair askew but when he peers down to see Even his sulk twists into concern. ****  
** **

“Even?” he asks, blinking down, before realising that perhaps the best thing to do is invite him inside. Even waits, beginning to feel the cool air of the night as the rain continues, relieved when he sees Isak come through the small hallway and reach around for the fairy lights near the nest to light his way. He pads to the door, dressed in joggers and a small shirt, opening up. ****  
** **

“What’s wrong?” he asks, eyes wide and omega anxiety surrounding him, “you just left. I didn’t see you.” ****  
** **

Even swallows the distress that’s collected at the back of his throat but he’s unable to voice the words, honesty a stranger to him most of the time because it hurts too much to admit he’s in pain. ****  
** **

“Even?” Isak asks again, reaching out for his hand. Isak’s hand is warm and dry, soft, and Even clings to it like it’s his lifeline before he realises he’s squeezing it too hard, he’s too  _ much _ .

“It’s ok,” Isak whispers in the dark shop, “it’s ok,” and Even doesn’t notice his tears until Isak blurs over and he’s no longer sharp and lifelike in front of him but as he lets himself be cradled by the smaller man he finally feels something akin to comfort. ****  
** **

“You are not alone,” Isak promises, hand stroking through Even’s hair and Even is mindful not to crush Isak in his embrace but just welcome the much needed contact, breathing in Isak’s rosy, cotton clean scent as deeply as he can as Isak rocks him gently. He lets Isak break them apart, leading Even by hand to the nest and Even’s weak, exhausted as they climb into it, pushing off blankets and pulling them back up. Even always envisioned his first snuggle with Isak as very traditional, Isak gathered up in his arms and laying tightly against his chest but he’s the one wrapping himself around Isak as the omega keeps his warm hands on his neck, letting Even stay as close as he wants. ****  
** **

Isak smells so  _ good, _ so clean and pure and Even clings to him like his purity will cleanse Even of his many sins, silent as he collects his breath against Isak’s neck, Isak’s barely there murmurs being whispered into the evening. ****  
** **

“Don’t worry. It’s ok,” Isak soothes, Even losing vision from the dim fairy lights and pressing his face into Isak’s neck, eyes fluttering shut as he lets himself be comforted by the healing hands of the omega holding him safely, pulling the blanket over him tightly. He falls asleep under Isak’s spell and he dreams of meadows and sunflowers, Isak with flowers in his hair. ****  
** **

Hours must pass with them entwined around each other, cosy, because as Even wakes up he’s still lying against a small, warm body that smells like heaven.  ****  
** **

_ This is a dream _ , his mind insists,  _ this can’t be real _ . ****  
** **

And yet, Isak’s there, asleep, clinging onto Even with love. Even watches the rise and fall of his chest, listens to the little huffs of breath and looks adoringly at the long lashes that rest against his cheek. Is he really this close, this intimate, with the boy he’s wanted to bite since the moment he saw him? It must be true, because his left hand is at the dip of Isak’s waist, and Isak’s perfect scent is filling his nostrils. ****  
** **

Isak snuffles, the hint of a whimper leaving his lips which goes straight to Even’s cock ( _ not the time _ ) as he starts to open his eyes, shyly waking up. ****  
** **

“‘Morning,” he whispers, smiling. Even wishes he had a response but he’s in awe, staring upwards. ****  
** **

“Are you ok?” Isak asks, not for the first time. They didn’t discuss why Even was knocking on  _ Yellow’s _ door at midnight in the rain, why he cried into Isak’s neck. Even feels his heart pick up as he thinks about all the ugly things he might need to confess to, how this moment is only temporary, a fleeting moment of beauty in his world of broken glass and broken promises. ****  
** **

“I’m not going to leave you,” Isak swears, scenting Even’s misery, eyes angry at the thought of it. ****  
** **

_ He’s not going to leave. _ ****  
** **

Even’s mouth is dry, head swimming with anxiety, unable to maintain eye contact while he admits to this innocent omega what kind of man he is. ****  
** **

“I’m not ok,” Even admits, brokenly, “I’m… I’ll probably never be. I’m sorry. I want to be.”

Isak strokes his hair, silent. ****  
** **

“I… I have bipolar. And I got addicted to drugs, a while ago. I’m clean, I’ve been to rehab, I’m… I should be in therapy but I just can’t. And then you arrived, and I wanted… I want…,” he can’t finish the sentence but it feels so good to have Isak’s hand on his skin, in his hair, letting Even speak without judgment. Even waits for omega disgust, shame, to fill the air, but it never comes. ****  
** **

“Ok,” Isak finally says, “I understand.” ****  
** **

Even can’t help himself, scoffing at the idea of this young omega understanding. ****  
** **

“What?” Isak asks, irritated, scent altering, mirror the tone of his voice. ****  
** **

“I appreciate the sentiment, Isak, but you don’t  _ understand _ ,” Even frowns, “you’re innocent, sweet.” ****  
** **

Isak stills against him before pushing Even away, sitting up. Even knows he’s said the wrong thing from how the air changes, how Isak’s lovely scent prickles with anger. He follows Isak, moving to sit awkwardly rather than lay down like two tired cats when he snatches a glance at something he’s never seen before. ****  
** **

“What? -” he asks, hand reaching out and falling, as realisation punches him in the guts. ****  
** **

Isak follows his eye line, stunned, fingers creeping up to the scar Even is transfixed upon. ****  
** **

“Not so innocent,” Isak trembles, voice shaking and he makes to run, to hide, Even stopping him with a grab of his wrist. ****  
** **

“What happened?” Even implores, blood rushing from his face. Isak sports a bite, a deep purple mark where teeth have been sunk into the flesh, light bruising still surrounding it. Even feels sick; not because Isak’s been bitten but a bitten omega  _ can’t _ be separated from their alpha. The pain that puts an omega through is the type of pain that no one would wish on another; the sense of grief, of paralysation, of utter devastation has been written about countless times, the horror, the fear.  ****  
** **

Isak looks so tiny, so afraid, but Even’s scared to touch him. ****  
** **

“I was bitten four years ago,” Isak confesses, arms around himself, staring at his knees, tears in his eyes, “I was bitten by someone I thought I could trust. I thought he was my mate. I wanted it. But he… he only bit me so he could…” ****  
** **

Neither of them verbally fill in the blanks. ****  
** **

“...I was hopeless. I let him do whatever he wanted. After the bite, it was clear he didn’t have feelings for me. But then I was tied to him. I wanted him. I let him treat me so poorly. But I knew I’d never have what I truly wanted. Once an omega’s bitten, in a village like mine? You can’t change that. I was trapped.” ****  
** **

Even feels sick, stomach protesting at this new information. He can picture, now, every time he’s seen Isak his neck is covered in a scarf or a button up, the way he’s skittish and nervous not quite matching up with the glimpses of attitude he’s seen Isak display. That anyone, any alpha, could bite with no intention of honouring the hold they now have over the omega is terrifying. ****  
** **

Isak lived through that. He’s _ living  _ through that. ****  
** **

“It was his parents,” Isak continues, still quiet, “they’re wealthy. They gave me the funds to move to Oslo. They were nice, really. They knew I was devastated. Every time he touched me, then left me…” ****  
** **

Even takes a sharp intake of breath. He wants to  _ kill _ . ****  
** **

“But I’m ok,” Isak rushes, scenting his fury, “I - will be - ok. I’m here. I’m starting over.” ****  
** **

Even is lost for words. He’s embarrassed that he played right into society’s hands and assumed Isak was a rich, sheltered little villager without even the faintest idea of how life could be brutal, unforgiving when Isak’s suffered so enormously.  ****  
** **

“Isak,” he starts, but what words can suffice?, “I’m so sorry.”

They’re empty and light. Even means them, with every ounce of him, but his words are feathers caught up in a furious wind. ****  
** **

“So. You thought I was innocent. But I’m not. I’m damaged. And it’s ok. No alpha would want a bitten omega,” Isak speaks for them both, tears brimming, “I don’t blame you, Even.” ****  
** **

“No,” Even insists, inching closer to the tearful boy, “god, I don’t  _ care _ about your past. I’m not leaving you.” ****  
** **

Isak looks at him hopefully, beautiful even as his heart visibly breaks and Even senses his willingness to be touched, taking his turn to hold Isak in his arms and cradle him. Perhaps they’re not so different, just two boys who’ve been lost and found, two people hurt and burnt, an alpha and an omega starting over and building skyscrapers from dust. ****  
** **

“Thank you,” Isak sighs, letting himself be held, Even nuzzling him carefully, feeling Isak rub up against him as morning breaks and Oslo wakes from its slumber. He could stay like this forever, maybe, with Isak alive and heated against his chest. It’s Isak who surprises him, yet again, moving slightly, until his lips nudge upwards. Even returns the kiss, gripping a slim waist, feeling gentle arms around his shoulders as they fall into their kiss, wanting and reaching. They’re hidden from view, tucked away in the nest corner, as they sink down, alpha over omega. Isak’s keen and gorgeous and Even’s slow and deliberate as his hand moves in, searching, until he’s in loose bottoms and feeling for that familiar heat, Isak gasping as he finds it, dipping in, and rocks back on Even’s hand encouragingly. ****  
** **

“Even,” he sings, and Even continues.  ****  
** **

He moves his hand, forearm beginning to ache as he tests and plays and teases, until Isak’s grabbling at his jacket and forcing him to lose layers. There’s nothing between them now but September air, skin begin to pinken and Isak’s quick and eager as his hands curl around Even’s cock, stroking him with intent.  ****  
** **

“Yeah?” Even checks, still here, still grounded. He has to know, he has to be sure, because Isak’s scars prove the pain he’s already suffered and Even can’t add to that sadness. Their eyes meet, Isak’s legs spread and he’s waiting, nodding, before Even angles his dick and slides into the tight warmth beneath him, groaning and stuttering as he bottoms out. ****  
** **

“ _ Yes _ ,” he gasps, slow at first, watching as Isak’s face flashes a series of emotions: pain, relaxed, want, and he holds off on losing himself in the heavenly omega below him until he feels Isak get wetter, until Isak squeezes his thighs around hips, needing more. That’s when Even sinks in even deeper, picking up pace as he begins to fuck him, knowing these blissful few moments will be etched on his memory for the rest of his life.  ****  
** **

Isak’s moans are soft, beautiful, his scent on fire,  and Even knows he’s close, fingers working himself as he’s fucked needily, drunk on him. Even has to forcibly keep his own eyes open, has to see the moment this creature comes and his heart could burst as Isak shrieks, tightening, head thrown back in passion as he shakes and comes on Even’s cock, forcing the alpha to pound into him and surrender to his own orgasm, loud as he fills Isak up before collapsing, spent. ****  
** **

They’re out of breath and hot, sticky, but there’s enough life left in them to make them giggle as Even withdraws his softening, messy cock out of Isak’s warm hole, fingering him to feel the spunk drip out of him. ****  
** **

“ _ Damn _ ,” Even sighs, looking down at their mess, Isak biting his lip in amused embarrassment. ****  
** **

“You’re perfect,” Even adds, not shy, not confused, not anymore. Isak laughs but he offers his mouth and Even takes the hint, a kiss against his lips, before they lie back down, still an hour away from opening up. ****  
** **

The pillow that holds them up, is yellow.

****

**


End file.
